Missing it all
by just giddy
Summary: KBOW oneshot songfic. 'home' by daughtry


**ok, another dedication going out but you'l find out at the bottom. and as a heads up, i was going to give out a diff one to this person, i had already started it and was like almost done with it but i like this one better and i like just did it. and its like 1 in the morning AGAIN. so if a few things dont make perfect sense (i.e. this authors note) blame it on the beginning symptoms of 2am-writing-syndrome. its a very real disease i swear. you should thank me for the heads up. haahhahaha**

Newly turned 20 year old Oliver Wood glanced around the Puddlemere locker room. It had been empty for the past ten minutes, but he still saw them all there. The keeper, petite Sue chatting with Marissa, one of their chasers, across the way. The two brother beaters were changing quietly, mutter a few lines to each other. McKinley, their stolid chaser silently packing things into his duffle bag as Tom, their shaven-headed captain, their final chaser, shuffling out of the room with once last proclamation of having a good practice.

He sat there on the bench long after they left. Hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees, he watched as droplets of water escaped his wet mop of a head, fell, and splattered on the tile floor inbetween his rather large feet. He missed it. He missed it all.He knew a professional team wouldn't be like his loved Hogwarts one. And that was the difference, he only liked these people, and it was a huge difference. He knew they clicked on the field but off they only hung out together at the end of the week really. It was this that explained the pang of hurt that would sting his stomach when he caught himself reminiscing. 

Some would say playing on a professional team, living out his boyhood dream was a chance that so many would snatch it in an instant, and that the fact that he was sitting there, now dreaming of the past like disappointed dreamers were famed for, was a large fault in his character. Or something of the like.

Lifting his head resolutely, he grabbed his duffle bag off the floor with a mighty grip and walked confidently out the locker room door. He didn't want to travel off again the upcoming weekend. He didn't want the memories to fad sooner than they had to. He didn't want to turn down a chance to make even more.

He didn't want to miss it anymore.

I'm going home,  
Back to the place where I belong,  
And where your love has always been enough for me.  
I'm not running from.  
No, I think you got me all wrong.  
I don't regret this life I chose for me.  
But these places and these faces are getting old  
So I'm going home.  
Well I'm going home.

He ignored the people he passed on the way down the stairs, he ignored the hellos and goodbyes, he wouldn't let the questions of his destination stop him from getting there. Stepping out into the brisk evening, he let the wind wrap around him, breathing in the freshness of it as it rustled his hair dry. Some would say the night was too cold for him to ignore the jacket in his bag, and that he should don it over his white tee shirt, however that could deter his journey. And he needed to get out of this place. Suddenly it felt like the whole sense of place was suffocating him.

So, with a quick glance at the familiarly unfamiliar faces and a small grin at them, he vanished with a small pop.

He ended up right where he wanted to. Well, maybe not exactly, but standing in front of The Three Broomsticks, at the heart of Hogsmeade, he knew he wasn't far off from his most beloved chaser. So with an internal and confident smile, the Scotsman continued down the street, towards the edge of town where he knew full well he would find Katie Bell. But as he past that obnoxiously frilly tea shop, his pace slowed to a stop as he caught sight of a teenage girl crying inside. The grip on his bag loosened slightly.

It was a familiar sight.

Of all the things he wished he could've missed was the thought of even letting Kati Bell go. Had he let that fly by he'd probably still be with her. Had he let it hardly brush by him, he wouldn't be anxious to seek her out, which only brought on more depressing thoughts.

What was the point, after all, to come and get a door slammed in his face?

Thoughts of the like filled his head as he pathetically watched the brunette inside sob into her tea. It was sad really but that's when it all dawned on him. He never wanted his most precious chaser to deal with that sort of pain if he could help it. He wanted to protect her from all sorts of hurt and he couldn't do that flying around the globe just to fly some more.

Clenching his jaw with resolution, he sent silent comforts to the girl inside as he shouldered his bag, heading towards his belle, and everything he had 3 years ago seemed reachable again.

The miles are getting longer, it seems,  
The closer I get to you.  
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.  
But your love, remains true.  
And I don't know why.  
You always seem to give me another try.

Katie Bell was sitting at home, curled up on a couch, her feet pushed into the crevice of the old cushions, reading an old forgotten book as dinner stewed on the oven. Her green eyes darted up for a moment, making sure the pot wasn't over boiling, and caught sight of the more daunting medical books sitting on the end table.

As a novice healer she knew she should be reading her texts, but the old, faded book seemed so much more inviting with it's soft, worn pages compared to the newly bound, newly pressed text. After all, at that point a war was inevitable and with scarce formal training, she knew she had to be on top of things when she was sent to aid the hurt. She had to soak in as much as she could.

But there still sat that old book in her lap. So pleasantly mysterious, it's contents forgotten but still tugging on her memory tenderly. It was a fantastically anxious emotion. So caught up in the words on the page she didn't notice the pot over boiling and sprinted into the small kitchen from the equally small den, waving her wand over the apparatus and silencing the quell. However the newly formed quiet was disturbed by three loud knocks on the door.

Walking over with her wand in hand, she rubbed her eyes vigorously.

Onions always got to her.

So I'm going home,  
Back to the place where I belong,  
And where your love has always been enough for me.  
I'm not running from.  
No, I think you got me all wrong.  
I don't regret this life I chose for me.  
But these places and these faces are getting old.

Oliver waited outside the oak door, playing with the welcome mat on the floor with his toe anxiously as he heard footsteps draw closer. The sound was coaxing, like a long-ago-sung lullaby, he had heard them so many times in the past, how the front of the left foot would always drag on the ground a tad more than was natural before the rest of the foot followed. 

He missed more than he thought.

"Who is it?" a tense voice spoke with a sing-song tone lurking somewhere behind it.

"Oliver." he responded with a dry croak.

"Oliver?" she repeated.

"Oliver Wood," he said with a bit more clarity.

He heard a choked laugh from inside, "Oh please, I don't believe it."

"It's me!" he cried as another pang of hurt hit his stomach.

"Oliver Wood hasn't shown his face around me for nearly a year." she stated bluntly, with hurt cloaking her words rather than malice.

"Lemme in Katie-Kates."

At the use of his old name for her the door swung open, after several locks had been unhitched, and a red and glassy eyed Katie Bell stood in the frame. He expected her to say something. Nothing grand, just a small uttering, something rather than just gaping up at him, her lips forming a tired 'o'.

"Kates…" he started, unsure if even that was right. "I-"

"What are you doing here?" she asked, mechanically pushing a lock of brown hair behind her ear.

"You dyed your hair dark then?" he queried conversationally.

"Yeah, but what are you doing here?" her brows knotting together.

"I liked it blonder." She rolled her eyes as her mouth finally shut, the o disappearing as she gave a small sniff. "I miss you," he confessed.

"Oh, well that's wonderful," she put on an obviously fake smile as she took a step back, her hand back on the doorknob. "That's bloody fantastic. Tell me that a year ago." and with that she promptly slammed the door in his face. "And it's _Katie_."

As Oliver looked at the closed entrance gravely, the sting of her words sinking in, Katie Bell sunk to the floor on the other side. Pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them, she let her body heave with tears that weren't consequential of making onion mushroom broth. She let her eyes dart up to the door on her right, before letting more tears flow, trying to stay as silent as she could, though no doubt Oliver Wood had left once again. So, With some will power she sat her self down on the small, cheap bench in the entrance way that was normally occupied with whatever she was carrying when she walked through the door. There she clenched the edges and watched, pathetically, as tears rolled off her face and into the carpet.

_Be careful what you wish for,  
'Cause you might just get it all,  
You might just get it all.  
And then some you don't want.  
Be careful what you wish for,  
'Cause you might just get it all,  
You just might get it all._

At first Oliver didn't know if slipping in would only infuriate her more, drive her farther away, but in his head he was already at the south pole while she was at the north. They couldn't get any farther apart unless one found a way to defy gravity. So, opening the door ever so slightly he found the locks left unlatched and slid in as quietly as possible, finding her sitting on a bench, watching droplets fall.

Quietly he shut the door and lowered his bag down to the floor before kneeling in front of her. "Kat?" he asked tenderly. She brought a hand to her face and tried to quickly wipe away her tears like they were never there to begin with. Yet she still wouldn't look at him. "Kat." Still she instead glared at the potted plant on her right. "I love you."

That got her eye. They snapped towards him in their green brilliance, still glassy and red rimmed. "It hurts too much to love you Oliver," she croaked softly. "I can't…not again."

Words never cut so deep. "Kat please," he begged grabbing both of her hands. "I can't do it anymore. I can't either."

"Can't what?"

"Keep hurting because of a huge void," he said dryly. "I can't miss you everyday."

"But it took you a whole year of days, playing Quidditch," she started, "I'm not putting myself through that all over again Ol'."

Somewhere inside he was doing back flips just at the use of her name for him. "I'm done with it Katie. I'm done."

She looked at him confused, "But you've only just started playing for Puddlemere," she stammered, "You could never just give up Quidditch just because."

"But it's not just because," he pleaded with her. "And I haven't just started, I had a year long ending and I want to start again, Kat. I can just give it up for something better so don't tell me I can't-"

She fell against him, kneeling in front of him with her arms around his shoulders and her head buried in the crook of his neck, her body heaving all the more as he held her close to him, rocking her back and forth tenderly.

They didn't have to miss anything anymore.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATE!!!!!

We've got to go cruising around now that you've got your license. We'll go pick up some kangaroos and hit the beach, sound good? Now all I have to do is ship myself to Oz. haha haha

Seriously girl, happy birthday and all the best for your new year. You deserve it more than anyone.  
And PS this is your dedication incase you didn't figure it out already ;P

And for everyone else review as always. And I know, I know, a songfic. Yeah, even though they're techniqually illegal I don't care. So the song's by Daughtry and it's called Home and I was going to save this for something Charlie-esque but I figured Arre deserves it with an Oliver twist. (omg, that sounds SO COOL, like a drink or some jazz just as awesome) yeah, and I don't care if the lyrics don't exactly match up with the context, it would've worked better with Charlie but once again, I don't care cause, once again, kate totally deserves it.


End file.
